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C0PY1 Vhen Monty Came Home 
From the Marne. 


SEYMOUR S. TIBBALS. 



PRICE 25 CENTS 


Eldridge Entertainment House 

Franklin, Ohio Denver, Colo. 
















BET THIS NEW PATRIOTIC MONOLOG 

“THE STARS AND STRIPES 



IN FLANDERS” 



By SEYMOUR S. TIBBALS 


H ERE is a ten minute dramatic reading 
with a climax that will cause a thrill. 
Suitable for a male or female reader and a 
number that will strengthen any program. 

We recommend it for any patriotic celebra¬ 
tion, commencement, alumni or civic banquet. 

The story deals with the manner in which 
the news of America’s entrance into the war 
was received in a dugout in Belgium. A col¬ 
onel of artillery, a priest and an Trish-Ameri- 
can are the leading characters. You will 
like it. 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

THE ELDRIDGE ENTERTAINMENT HOUSE 

FRANKLIN, OHIO .... DENVER, COLO. 











When Monty Came Home 
from the Marne. 


A MONOLOG 


By SEYMOUR S. TIBBALS 


Copyright, 1918, Eldridge Entertainment House. 


--Published by- 

ELDRIDGE ENTERTAINMENT HOUSE, 

FRANKLIN, OHIO - DENVER, COLO. 































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WhenfMonty Came Home From the Marne. 


Ever since that memorable Good Friday in the year 
1917 when the whistles of Washington announced to the 
waiting city and the eager world that the President’s 
signature had been affixed to a momentous document 
America has been waking up. At last we heard the call 

of duty, we were aroused to our danger, we could no 

* 

longer resist our destiny. For months many of us impa¬ 
tient at the delay had wondered when the land of the 
free and the home of the brave would enter the world 
war. We knew that it was our duty to share with all free 
states the burden and the sacrifice for Liberty—to help 
make the world a place where God’s free people can live 
at peace and enjoy whatever prosperity comes to them 
by right. And on that Good Friday afternoon when the 
whistles of Washington proclaimed to the waiting world 
that we were in at last, we all knew that we were in to 
stay until the victory. 

When America, the sleeping young giant, heard 
the call to arms we were taunted by the jibes of the ene¬ 
my across the sea. “What can you hope to do against us ?” 
roared the tyrant. “We have been preparing for this 
war for more than forty years while you have been doing 
nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’ve sat still and let 
us prepare. You believed foolishly in peace and now 
when the war has come you are a helpless nation that 
doesn’t know which way to turn.” 



But in this the military despotism of Prussia was 
wrong. The United States had not been asleep during 
the forty years of German planning. We, too, had been 
preparing, but preparing in a different way from the 
Huns. Instead of stripping our children of their self- 
respect, we had buckled on them an armor of pride and 
when they came forth and joined hands with the children 
of the free across the wide ocean it was s£en that all 
the hordes of the armies of the Kaiser couldn’t lick them. 

In that army of freedom that came at last across the 
sea was Monty Culver and it is about the big day in 
Monty’s life that I want to tell you. A typical American 
was Monty—a lad from a Christian home on an Ohio 
farm. He was a widow’s son. His father had lost an 
arm when a drummer boy at the battle of Shiloh, and 

Monty had been taught from the cradle to abhor war. 
Through all his boyhood he had helped his father and he 
early learned to appreciate the price that some men pay 
for Liberty. Reared in an atmosphere of peace he 
watched the veterans of the Grand Army Post when they 
made their annual pilgrimage to the village cemetery 
in a spirit of reverance and awe. When he reached his 
majority the little band of grayed-haired veterans in blue 
had dwindled until they could no longer appear upon 
parade. War had faded into the past and was only a 
matter of history. Some years before the one-armed fig¬ 
ure of his father had crossed into the shadow and Monty 
and the little mother toiled peacefully upon the farm. 
He loved the sheep and cattle on the hills. He tenderly 
watered the flowers about the little home. On Sunday 
they drove to the village church and he dozed serenely as 
the old pastor expounded the gospel. He was a man of 
peace, his whole heart filled with love and solicitude for 
the little mother. It was with a feeling of regret he 
killed a chicken for the Sabbath dinner and when a faith- 


ful old horse fell and broke its leg he called a neighbor 
to come and end its suffering. He read his Bible and 
sang the songs of peace. Then the war cloud burst and 
he grieved for the agony of the men and women “over 
there.” But it was to him a thing afar off and as he 
knelt at night beside his bed he thanked God that he 
was an American and lived in the land of the free. 

Then at last came that memorable Good Friday and 
the whistles at Washington aroused the nation and 
echoed among the hills of Ohio. The spirit of his father 
awakened in Monty and he heard the call to arms. In the 
falling twilight of a May evening, with the breath of 
the honeysuckle stealing through the open windows he 
gathered the little mother in his big strong arms and told 
her he must go. Like thousands of other American moth¬ 
ers she held back her tears and bravely bade him good¬ 
bye when he left to enlist in the Marines. There were 
weeks of loneliness for her on the little farm while he 
trained at Paris Island. There were boxes of things he 
liked, sent to him in camp while the packet of letters 
from her boy increased in the top drawer of the bureau 
in her bedroom. Then for two weeks she did not hear 
and she knew that he had gone across. 

The German artillery became violent. Over our 
trenches streamed a fire of shells. They fell tearing 
away whole banks of earth at once, they exploded thun¬ 
derously, in a cloud of dust and stifling smoke. Monty 
looked for the worst; he suspected a close attack, a hand- 
to-hand clash. Suddenly a great cry rang out: “The 
gas!!” 

Over there from the enemy’s lines came great green¬ 
ish balls, rolling close to the earth, rolling straight 
toward our boys. It was coming with a deadly surety 
amidst a tornado of artillery. Orders were shouted back 
and forth. “Lookout! The gas! Put on the masks!” 


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One interior setting. Easily costumed and 
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^^^PRICE 25 CENTS 

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